The Art of Murder

an-escaped-tiger:

The man caught the weapon that was thrown his way with dexterous ease, palming it with the kind of loving familiarity that one might show to an old friend. He looked down at the weapon and, despite himself, blinked in surprise. He knew that weight. He knew that grip. He knew the way it fit so perfectly into the palm of his hand and the way his fingers curled so perfectly to melt against the trigger. The safety was slightly worn away where it had been turned off so many times and there was a slight ding against the cold metal where a bullet had actually grazed it in the midst of a fight.

It wasn’t just any gun. It was his gun. The military issued one that he’d had taken from him the day he was stripped of his rank and dishonorably discharged. How could this madman have possibly gotten his hands on it…?

Lifting his gaze, those eyes narrowed on the man that stood there, practically beaming, hands tucked harmlessly into his pockets. No…no, not harmlessly. There was not a  breath of this man that was harmless. That much Sebastian could tell right now.

“Suppose I have you to thank for the prison break,” Seb muttered, pieces starting to come together now. He lifted the gun, testing its weight again, looking down the sights. God, it felt good in his hand once more! Like an extension of his own arm. Just the feel of it in his grip again was enough to set his heart to racing and the predator within him was practically salivating and pacing like a caged, wild animal.

Lowering the gun he looked back at the man with a slight, distrustful frown.

“Why me?”

Jim licked his lips that curled up and wide, his teeth showing, when Sebastian caught the gun. He watched as Sebastian toyed with the gun in his hand, the gun he so easily got with just a snap of his fingers, and oh, a few snaps of heads- none the matter! Jim started laughing loudly then, pulling out his hands out of his pocket to start clapping.

“Clever!” he shouted, still laughing so hard as if it was some kind of big joke. “I see you’ve started pulling the pieces together! Not as dull as I thought you’d be, pet.”

Walking towards Sebastian, Jim showed no fear in moving closely to the armed man. He circled Sebastian, clucking his tongue and eyeing at Sebastian in approval. “Let me see…” he started, but trailed off. He pressed a finger to Sebastian’s back, traced it from the back of his neck down the spine to the small of Sebastian’s back.

“Good posture, for one.” He chuckled, very much aware that Sebastian could attack him any second he wanted to. It still did not stop him from keeping his hand on Sebastian’s body. Jim scrunched up his nose, when he played with the fabric of Sebastian’s clothes. “Admittedly shit dressing, but I can always fix that, but look-” he playfully cupped Sebastian’s arse. “-what a nice arse. Wonder how it’d look once I’m taking you from behind, hmm?”

“Oh wait.” Jim sung in that usual unusual high-pitched voice of his. “That’s not really your question now, is it? But, well, I suppose you’re going to have to join me to find out!”

an-escaped-tiger:

Seb tensed the moment those arms encircled his waist and he gripped the knife harder in his hand, prepared to lash out at the man - but an easy maneuver and a slip away and suddenly he felt the knife being pulled from his hand just as he was whirling about. He reached to grasp at the man and his weapon, but he was too quick, melting back away into the shadows with that devious glint in his eyes and a shine of that knife in his hands.

So. Now this madman was not only loose in his home, but he was also armed.

Well, Seb knew how to play at such games as this. 

Shifting his legs slightly further apart, Seb braced himself. His knees were slightly bent, prepared to move at the first sign of trouble. His eyes scanned back and forth through the darkness, all senses alert. He was ready for anything. For that figure to melt once again back into his sight, wielding his blade. 

And though that man might easily get in a good stab or two…Seb had been one of the best bare-hand combatants in his platoon. He was ready for the fight. He would enjoy tearing the man apart with his own two hands.

“Generally it’s rude to break into somebody’s home without any proper introductions. Or do you just prefer to go by Master?” Seb sneered…and he heard a small scuff that caused him to whirl around sharply. But there was no movement, and he remained tensed and coiled like a snake. “What do you want with me? If you’re looking for some kind of a slave, you’ve got the wrong man, mate.”

Jim threw the knife away after Sebastian had his little talk, and it clattered audibly as the metal kissed the floor somewhere in the corner of the shadows. He moved quietly, appearing in front of Sebastian again. His hands were in his pocket and his lips were pursed but there was a still a small smile that was twisted onto his mocking lips.

“James Moriarty. But you can call me Jim,” he said, taking a step towards Sebastian. “I want you to by my sniper.” He took another step forward, producing a gun from what it seemed to be out of nowhere. He never carried guns with him, not when it ruined the line of his suit. “I want you to be my pet.” He flashed a proper smirk. “What’s in it for you?” He twirled the gun in his hand. “Well, I want you to kill for me.” He clicked his tongue and threw the gun up in the air. “Isn’t that enough for you?” He caught the gun without even looking at it. “The thrill of the fight.” He tossed the gun to Sebastian.

“What say you?”

an-escaped-tiger:

Seb pulled his wrists hard as soon as the man released him, snapping the remaining threads of the bonds free. The course ropes that had been used had given him a rather severe friction burn around his wrists where he’d been struggling against them, but he paid these no mind. He lunged to his feet in a crouch, prepared to attack…but the man was already slinking away further into the shadows. With a grin that belonged to the devil himself.

Sebastian could feel his eyes widen at the brazen invitation. The man was absolutely mad!

Slowly rising to his feet in a maneuver that was surprisingly graceful for his broad, thick figure, Sebastian made his way on barefeet quietly towards the battered card table that served as his dining room table. There was a steak knife sitting on it that he’d left there from his meal last night and this he picked up, slowly curling his fingers around it. 

It wasn’t a gun and it wasn’t a proper blade…but it would have to make do for now.

The man licked his lips, tasting the blood of his earlier bite-victim still on his lips and grinning darkly at the flavor. His body started to move in a slow prowl into the darkness of the warehouse, eyes darting this way and that as they tried to adjust to the shadows there, peering around columns and glancing into opened doors that once must have served as offices.

“Wasn’t aware I had an old master,” he murmured in that low register of his, feeling adrenaline pulsing dangerously through his veins as he moved silently on his bare feet, listening attentively for the small disturbance. “Didn’t know I needed a new one.” He tossed the steak knife loosely from hand to hand as he moved in a predatory manner. “And I’ve never taken very kindly to people inviting themselves into my home.”

Somewhere in the shadows, laughter echoed and bounced off the walls. It created some sort of noise distortion, and no, Sebastian still could not tell where Jim was because Jim knew how to use the warehouse to his advantage because he had been watching Sebastian. “I know, I know, I know.” He sang to himself in a manner that showed his crazy. Jim was still dancing with dark, and he never stopped playing fire because he made a slow waltz towards where Sebastian was. He toed his way over, tongue still licking his teeth, smile still playing on his face.

“I know where you hide, love!” He called once he had slipped his arms around Sebastian’s waist and pressed his body against the man’s. “And yes, yes, yes. The war was your master, and now I am.” He twirled away and back into the dark, taking the knife away from Sebastian, as soon as Sebastian’s body stopped tensing and started to react to him. He stood in the light briefly enough for Sebastian to catch a glimpse of his teeth shinning through a shark-like smile. Then, he was gone because he knew better than to stay close to Sebastian in this state of his.

“Nothing scares me anymore, sweetheart. Not even your cute little threats.”

an-escaped-tiger:

Sebastian hit the ground hard, unable to catch himself, and his cheek met with the dusty ground of the old warehouse. He tried to turn himself over, but the man behind him was too quick in his movements and had him pinned against the ground beneath the pressure of his foot against his back.

The ex-sniper bared his teeth fiercely and snarled…a sound that was cut short when the man dug the heel of his posh shoe hard into his wrists. Seb grit down on his teeth, refusing to cry out at the pain of having those bones placed under such threatening stress. His fingers kept moving against his bonds a fraction of a second more out of defiance - but the man pressed what felt like his full weight down into his wrists and Seb could actually feel his bones nearly popping out of place.

Yet even still, he refused to cry out.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, despite the very evident dominance the other man held over him just now. Seb was a fighter through and through. And a trapped tiger was always at its most fiercest.

Jim laughed out loud and stepped away from Sebastian, only to quickly lean down his entire body right atop the man’s before he could escape. He mockingly cradled Sebastian’s head and placed a kissed to his ear before whispering, “Your new master, tiger.”

He liked playing games, and oh, he would try at his new pet. So with a swift flick of his wrists, he cut the ropes to Sebastian’s wrists loose and then got up. Jim moved away from the man still on the floor. He made sure to make eye contact, only to bare his teeth wide and lick them- a taunt. His eyes are alert and dangerous, cold and measuring Sebastian’s every move. He retreated further, back to lurking into the shadows. He knew Sebastian knew where he was.

“Come, come, pet. Play with me. Play with me,” he mocked loudly, walking around the dark; his shoes clicking the ground hard so it echoes through the warehouse.

an-escaped-tiger:

Sebastian tried to shake the hand off his head, but this only earned those fingers tightening harder, pulling rather painfully at his scalp. His teeth gnashed down hard against the makeshift gag that had been forced into his mouth, some of the blood of the man he’d attacked staining it. He locked eyes with the man that stood above him and there was something primal and altogether quite dangerous there. Like a wild, caged animal just waiting for an opportune moment to pounce.

Sebastian heard the sounds of the man that had brought him in retreating and something that may have been a wicked smile started to form on his face. Good. One more he didn’t need to worry about. Now all he would have to do was get free of his bonds and get his hands around that lily-white throat and he could show this man that nobody broke into his home and lived to tell about it.

His fingers started pulling at the ropes that were cutting into his wrists, trying to find a weakness in the knot.

The minute he called his men off and out, Jim prowled around Sebastian. He giggled loudly, clapping his hands, as he watched the calculating expression over his captive. He bent before Sebastian, careful with his balance so that he would not dirty his suit. He grinned, teeth and all and pat Sebastian on the cheek roughly. He would tell that the man was trying to loosen his bindings around his wrists from the way his shoulders rolled.

“Tut-tut,” he giggled once more, as he began to loosen the gag around Sebastian’s mouth. “Try biting again and I’ll rip your nails out one by one and feed them to you, darling.”

Jim stood up, and rounded Sebastian. He stopped behind the man, and he could still see the man trying to pull the ropes loose. He didn’t like that, he didn’t like that at all. Anger flaring, Jim kicked Sebastian forward with a devilish strength. He stepped on his prisoner’s back, making sure the heels to his shoes dig painfully into his back. Then he thought better, and this time dug his heel into Sebastian’s wrists, twisting them sharply and painfully into an awkward angle.

“Rule one,” he hissed, voice dripping with venom and eyes narrowing into a dangerous gaze that Sebastian couldn’t see while on his stomach. “Don’t upset me.”

an-escaped-tiger:

Three years ago…

The door to the old warehouse was thrown open with a loud bang and the very distinct sound of scuffling and struggling and heavy breathing could be heard. Despite the debris on the floor that bit into his barefeet, Sebastian Moran thrashed like a wild creature against the powerful hold that kept him locked in place and he swore that if he could but get the smallest break in that grip, he would rip his captor’s throat out. Gag or no gag. Hands bound or not. He was going to devour this man…and whoever he was working with too.

It had all happened so suddenly.

Sebastian had thought it was a stroke of Fate itself when all the cell doors on his wing of the prison suddenly rolled open. It must have been some kind of a glitch in the system, but Seb knew an opportunity when he saw one. He hadn’t managed to stay alive in Afghanistan as a double-agent, selling secrets on various British troop locations to the enemy, simply by his gun alone. He was sharp and clever and he wasted no time in running from his cell, even while some of his fellow prisoners just sat there dumbly blinking.

Oh, there had been pandemonium. It was delicious. He’d fought tooth and nail against every guard that tried to stop him. Taking out three. Perhaps killing four. But eventually he’d managed to reach the outter wall. The wall where he’d earlier managed to discover a weakness in the barbed wire. True, it still cut and tore at his skin and clothes - but what were a few more scars when his freedom was on the line?

He’d dropped to the other side and he ran.

Unfortunately he didn’t realize that while he imagined himself the predator, he’d just become the hunted…

Sebastian felt a sharp kick at the back of his knees and he fell forward onto the dusty floor. Finger entangled themselves into his hair and jerked his head back sharply, earning a snarl from behind the gag that had been forced into his mouth - likely because of the rather severe bite marks that were still freshly bleeding on his captor’s arm. His eyes flared wide and vengeful and he thrashed his head again…but then a quiet scuff of feet against the floor stilled him. A movement through the gloom. Sebastian felt himself tensing and his hands which were bound behind his back curled into fists.

God, what he would give just for the comforting weight of his gun there.

But he had no weapons and all he could do was watch as a man dressed in a fine, fitted suit slowly stepped out of the shadows.

Not long after Jim had started playing detective with Sherlock, he found himself wanting a personal pet. He took his time in searching for the right one. Profiles after profiles had slipped past his fingers and down the trash as he merely did so much as glance through them. None of them interested him at all. He grew impatient over the weeks, lashing out at clients along with his victims. Even though he had never been one to get his hands, and of course his darling Westwood suit, he had victims at the mercy of his bare hands as he took out his anger on them. Until that one fine, fine day when he chanced upon this one certain profile.

Sebastian Moran.

He loved the name the minute he had read it. He scanned through the profile briefly, having already decided that this man was the one he wanted. The only setback was- oh who was he kidding? Prison cells don’t stop him from getting what he wanted.

So he let the doors open, watched the man run, run, run.

My tiger. Mine, mine, mine. You’re already mine.

Jim had left Sebastian to himself for a couple of weeks, kept an eye on the man as he ‘moved’ into to an old warehouse. He watched, and watched, attracted like a moth to a flame. Ever so often, a smile like a knife would grace his cheeks as he thought of the brilliant plans he would have the officer go through for him. As usual, his patience eventually wore thin and he put on his best suit (because, darlings, first impressions always last) and took the black car down to the warehouse.

Now, he wasted no time in having his men barge in, wasted no time in having Sebastian kicked to his knees, wasted no time gagging and bounding the thrashing man who bit one of his men’s hand, wasted no time in lovingly twisting his pale, pale fingers around his prisoner’s hair once he had stepped out of the dark.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he sang in his high-pitched voice as he loomed in closely to Sebastian’s face.

an-escaped-tiger:

psychopathinacrown:

an-escaped-tiger:

psychopathinacrown:

My mum used to tell me that I was a fucking impatient brat. Not that I care. - JM xx

And really? Why are you not here already? Fuck, I swear even John would be faster than you. - JM xx

You are a fucking impatient brat. - SM

Don’t. - SM

It’s been ten fucking minutes. WHERE ARE YOU? - JM xx

It’s been eight and I’m wiping my feet off on your mat right now so I don’t track in any mud. Again.

Why the fuck would you have light-colored carpet?!

- SM 

Why are you even fucking texting me when you’re outside? God.

I have whatever the fuck I want to have, tiger.

Don’t be a twat.

- JM xx

(Source: )

an-escaped-tiger:

psychopathinacrown:

an-escaped-tiger:

psychopathinacrown:

You’re still making me wait, sweetheart.

- JM xx

My Mum use to tell me that good things came to those who wait. - SM

Alright, I’m showered and cleaned and dressed and finally up to your majesty’s picky expectations. I will be there in ten. - SM

My mum used to tell me that I was a fucking impatient brat. Not that I care. - JM xx

And really? Why are you not here already? Fuck, I swear even John would be faster than you. - JM xx

You are a fucking impatient brat. - SM

Don’t. - SM

It’s been ten fucking minutes. WHERE ARE YOU? - JM xx

(Source: )

an-escaped-tiger:

psychopathinacrown:

an-escaped-tiger:

psychopathinacrown:

No, you won’t.

Hurry the fuck up already. I’m falling asleep.

- JM xx

Then I hope you don’t mind if I decide to wake you up.

I promise to make it very well worth your while.

- SM

You’re still making me wait, sweetheart.

- JM xx

My Mum use to tell me that good things came to those who wait. - SM

Alright, I’m showered and cleaned and dressed and finally up to your majesty’s picky expectations. I will be there in ten. - SM

My mum used to tell me that I was a fucking impatient brat. Not that I care. - JM xx

And really? Why are you not here already? Fuck, I swear even John would be faster than you. - JM xx

(Source: )

an-escaped-tiger:

psychopathinacrown:

an-escaped-tiger:

Hmm. Someday, James. Someday I’m going to have you in my home begging me for it.

But even though I’m not generally a patient man…I can wait.

Now. Give me enough time to shower so I don’t get any blood on your posh carpet and I’ll be over.

- SM

No, you won’t.

Hurry the fuck up already. I’m falling asleep.

- JM xx

Then I hope you don’t mind if I decide to wake you up.

I promise to make it very well worth your while.

- SM

You’re still making me wait, sweetheart.

- JM xx

(Source: )